


Mexican Surrealist

by BillyBumblr



Category: Noel Fielding's Luxury Comedy
Genre: Blow Jobs, Episode Related, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Jelly Fox, M/M, Season 1 Episode 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:55:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3799297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillyBumblr/pseuds/BillyBumblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mexican Surrealist Frida Kahlo fills in for Andy Warhol as Noel's maid. She takes a liking to Smooth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mexican Surrealist

**Author's Note:**

> FYI There is brief fetishsizing of an ethnicity, which I'm not endorsing at all. I guess Smooth can be such a dink.

"You know that's Andy, right?" Noel said.  
With a shrug and a smile, Smooth replied "Yeah?" and followed Andy to the yellow hall.  
It didn't matter to Smooth if Andy was dressed as Frida or Da Vinci or even Naomi Klaus, as long as it was the two of them.   
Andy faced a corner, faux-upset that Noel and Dolly refused to play along with his ruse. His long arms crossed. His eyes closed. He murmured in a robotic huff "I am the famous Mexican surrealist painter, Frida Kahlo."   
Smooth plucked a flower from his hair and smelled it, before stretching it back toward the pop artist. A lock of hair the flower once pinned back, fell to Andy's face. A coy smile played at his lips. "You know, I have a thing for latinas."  
Slow to open his eyes, heavy with false eyelashes, Andy turned to Smooth. The offensively red lipstick felt too dry on his lips. He should have applied moisturizer. It didn't matter though. He knew he looked good, and even though he didn't need the anteater to validate his looks, he smiled anyways. He took the flower, then let it drop to the floor. He'd hoover it later.   
Smooth looked like he always did; so fucking cool in his kilt and leather jacket covered in studs and pins. Andy bent down to touch the fuzzy forehead with his own. The artist laughed silently at the thought of their unibrows touching, adhering like velcro. Two carnival tickets labeled "JA" wafted to the yellow floor next to the flower. Smooth let out a small laugh too. Even the laughter was in character.  
"Want to get outta here?" Smooth asked. He wasn't really worried about Dolly or Noel walking in on them, but would rather not worry about that at all. They were probably talking about them (actually they were debating concepts and jokes). He brushed back the loose hair. He was used to brushing back Andy's messy hair, and just because he wore a Frida Kahlo wig made no difference. He wanted to see his face unobstructed. The no glasses helped a lot.  
"Affirmative." Andy practically dragged Smooth by his jacket lapel. "We shall now enter the Dungeon." His voice grown deep on the last word, rushing blood to Smooth's groin.   
"Okay."  
Andy said with an impossibly big smile, "I hope you have your big cat pants on."   
Little did Andy know, Smooth was not wearing any pants at all.   
Smooth has been to the dungeon many times, but nothing ever prepared him for the coldness of the room. He would much rather the Factory or Club 51, but this would do if this is what Andy wanted. He regretted not wearing 'big cat pants' when Andy lifted him onto the icy metal counter, and his balls recoiled inside. From cleaning the treehouse, Andy was strong in a lean robotic way. The counter made it so Andy didn't have to hunch over to kiss him. He leaned onto the artist's chest to listen to the soft hum. Andy softened his grip, turning it into a tender hug.  
"Am I going too quickly?"   
Smooth felt a bit dazed by Andy's disjointed syllables. "No-no. It's just, " Smooth looked up at Andy. Andy was warm, much like an overheating computer. It's just that every time they did this, it felt just as exciting, just as new, and just as scary. Smooth felt like a teenager again, trying to show off to his crush, worried that he wouldn't measure up. Usually this feeling wore off, but not with Andy. "Keep going."  
Andy kissed him. Andy remembers the first time they kissed. He was worried about Smooth's trunk getting in the way, but it didn't. Smooth was obviously skilled at macking. Smooth never used too much tongue, but his kisses were a bit wet but that was okay because Andy was always too dry of a kisser (at least that is what Lichtinstien said. 'What a prick,' thought Andy). He sucked on the trunk; it wasn't the only trunk he was planning on sucking.  
Andy pulled the orange dress down to his hips. Smooth the slid his hands up his colleague's blouse. Andy broke the kiss and threw back his head as grey hands traced his nipples. His lipstick smeared around his mouth, like he had been eating a fab-lollies. Smooth nibbled on Andy's exposed neck, then to his clavicle. Focused too much on his lover's throat, he may have pinched Andy's nipple too hard.   
Andy hissed.  
"Sorry Andy. I mean Frida." Smooth retracted his hands. "Sorry Frida."   
"Put those hands back, mister." Andy pushed up the kilt.  
Smooth obeyed, but he felt embarrassed. The cold kept him from keeping hard. Andy's warm hands rubbed his thighs. Smooth wanted Andy to touch him so bad. He needed him to touch him. But Andy didn't. He touched everywhere but the place Smooth needed him to. Smooth kept his mouth on Andy's throat and his hands on Andy's chest. Smooth rocked his hips.  
Andy pushed away briefly to get rid of his shirt. The shirt took most of the flowers with it, unfurling Andy's gorgeous black locks of his crooked wig. He knelt down before Smooth. He kissed and licked Smooth's navel. He ran his tongue over the muppety thighs. His hot breath tickled his coworker's now hard cock, but he didn't go for it quite yet. Precum dribbled down the shaft.  
"Dammit Andy," Smooth huffed out of breath.  
Andy peered up from between furry thighs. "I am not Andy Warhol. I am the famous Mexican surrealist painter, Frida Kahlo."  
Smooth fisted the black wig in faux aggression and gently directed Andy's mouth towards his cock. The lipstick was smeared even further; entirely invisible now. Andy had lost one of his false eyelashes along the way. His own dick yearned for attention, but Smooth's came first (Or is it cummed first?). After all the teasing, it was the least he could do.  
He ran his tongue the length of the shaft and kissed the head; all sans hands. Smooth shuddered. Andy teased the head before taking it into his mouth.   
Mouth full, Andy looked up at Smooth, who had his chin planted on his chest. This made him have a few extra chins. It wasn't the most flattering angle, but Andy thought it was beautiful. This would make a great screenprint. He could see the colors now. Imagine prints and prints of Smooth-eyes closed, thick lashes, mouth slightly ajar, trunk in a tight curl, his many many chins-lined in nice neat rows on white gallery walls where everyone could see Smooth as Andy saw him; beautiful. He took as much of Smooth into his mouth as he could.  
Smooth didn't know how Andy managed. He felt Andy gag silently around him, and he involuntarily bucked his hips. He felt bad doing so, but Andy managed to bob down a few times before retreating to catch his breath. Andy rested his head on Smooth's knee, and continued to pump his dick vigorously with one hand. When Andy tried using his mouth again, he sputtered and coughed. Andy wiped the spit away with his free hand.  
"You don't hafta' do that," Smooth slid the wig off and brushed back the messy hair underneath. "You have the hands of an artist."  
"That is correct, but have you considered this?" Andy gasped for breath before taking his balls in mouth, still working Smooth with 'artist's hands'.   
Like all good dungeons, this one was sound proof. No sound penetrated in or out. All was quiet besides the panting dispersed by the occasional guttural moans, the sloppy wet friction of head, underlined by the thrumming machines. Smooth was so close to cumming. His fist clenched and unclenched, in best effort to abstain from grabbing Andy's head and driving his cock deep inside. Andy wasn't a machine to be fucked. Still, Smooth helplessly thrusted and Andy took it well.  
Smooth garbled something and hoped his partner took it to mean "Gain way! I'm going to cum."   
Andy pulled away, continuing to pump. Rather than swallow or get any ejaculate on him, Andy panicked. He always forgot to ask what to do at this point beforehand, and he always forgot how to ask during. Does he aim at Smooth's stomach? The floor? What if he got it in his eye? He wasn't wearing his glasses. Panicked "Uh-uh-uh"s escaped Warhol. Instead he used his own Mexican blouse. Smooth grunted and kept thrusting long after he finished ejaculating. The blouse was thrown between the counter and the sink.  
Andy wrapped his arms around Smooth's waist. Once the fog cleared from Smooth's mind, he motioned for Andy to back away. Andy knelt on the linoleum floor. He folded his hand in his lap, and didn't even try not to look pleased with himself. Smooth lowered himself from the sweat streaked counter to join Andy on the floor. The brief moment without the warmth of his partner was too much. Maybe he was already shivering and covered in goosebumps, but he didn't notice when there was a hot mouth devouring him.  
He snaked an arm around Andy. "What do you want?"   
To Smooth's annoyance, Andy replied. "Whatever you want." The way he said r's always interested Smooth. Even before they were, well, whatever they are now. Back when they were strictly colleagues.  
Smooth helped Andy the rest of the way out of his ever flowing orange dress to see he was indeed wearing his big cat pants; leopard spotted briefs. The thought of Frida Kahlo in such garments was enough to make Smooth lift one side of his unibrow. As Smooth freed Andy's aching cock, Andy kicked off his shoes. Now Andy laid on his back, big cat pants around his knees, one sock on, earrings tangling in his hair, and the other lazily clinging to his disposed dress.   
Smooth shuddered in the cold.  
"Wait. I have an idear," Andy historically pointed an index finger into the air.   
He shimmied out of his pants and lifted Smooth to his feet. Andy was completely nude aside from one sock, while Smooth was still in his jacket, goggles, kilt, rugby socks, hi-tops and even his kickass pink bow tie. He lead Smooth through the dungeon. His hard cock bouncing side-to-side as he walked. He stopped at closet full of blankets. He cloaked the shorter man in an itchy, yet warm Pepto-Bismolic pink blanket.  
Again, Smooth couldn't talk.   
Andy emptied the closet contents onto the floor. They crawled into the nest.  
"As you were solider," Andy saluted him with two fingers. His elbow angled in a perfect 90 degrees.   
Legs spread, back arched, lips parted, Andy made it easy for Smooth to get to work. Smooth kissed Andy's forehead. He kissed his nose. He kissed his cheeks, his ears, his chest. Then Smooth went for the nipples.  
"Smooth. Smooth. Smooth. Smooth."  
He loved it when Andy said his name.   
"Smooth. Smooth. Smooth, we haven't got all day."  
"I thought you said I can do whatever I wanted?" He nipped at a puckered nipple.  
Andy's hand twitched, longing to touch himself. "You always go on and on and on. 'Dammit Andy', 'Go faster Andy', "Just fuck me Andy'. This erection has lasted longer than Aubrey Beardsley career. Well, damn it Smooth, just do it."  
Smooth pulled away and rested his chin on his hand. " Whose Andy? I thought you were the famous the famous Mexican surrealist painter, Frida Kahlo?"  
"Damn it Smooth."  
He went back to the nipples. He propped himself on one arm and with his free hand he pumped Andy's cock slowly at first and sped up.   
"I am getting sensitive."  
As much as it pained Smooth, he abandoned Andy's chest and lowered himself to the lovely cock- so pink compared to the rest of Andy's body. Smooth didn't have the eagerness or the skill like Andy to take the entire member into his mouth, but he did have rhythm, and a hand to work the lower shaft. Smooth wasn't shy: he happily trailed his tongue down the shaft, balls, taint and ass hole. His jaw started to cramp.   
"God damn it, fuck." Andy sputtered nonsensical curses. "You are fucking on point."  
Andy no longer said if he was going to cum. He didn't need to. Smooth swallowed.   
Together and completely spent on the floor of the dungeon. Smooth had to resist the urge to ask if he did good. Asking is not sexy and he would be crushed if Andy gave any type of critique.  
Andy ran his hands over his lover's velvety ears. "Smooth, Smooth, you are amazing Smooth."  
"I cannot believe the real Frida Kahlo called me amazing."  
"Quite you." Andy loved these moments best. Just the two of them holding one another. "I, the real Andy Warhol, am calling you amazing."  
Smooth brushed his hair back. "Same."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read! This is my first fic. Critiques and comments are appreciated, especially since I didn't really get this edited. I'm most concerned with repetitiveness and Characters being ooc.


End file.
